


Emperor's New Clothes

by Davechicken



Series: The Emperor and his Knight [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>My pet,</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>I will be home in an hour. Wash yourself from head to toe. Clean your filthy hole, too. When you are done, open this box and wear this outfit for me. I expect to be greeted correctly when I arrive.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>Emperor Dameron</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Emperor's New Clothes

Kylo had long since surrendered any last shred of dignity around his Master and Emperor. Once your lover had seen you - and _reduced you to_ \- a sobbing wreck, had taken you apart from head to toe, and had seenthe depraved and **nasty** things that turned you on… well. Kylo was pretty sure there wasn’t much left in the galaxy that could take him aback.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t still shamed and humiliated (and loving it) when they did things, it was just that… he was sure they’d plumbed most of the depths, short of one, or both of them, dressing up as a Hutt.

And that train of thought had probably been his downfall, he assumed. Once you got relaxed and complacent, was when a good Master like Poe would slam open another set of doors and drag him - kicking and screaming - out the other side.

Poe wasn’t back, yet. He’d told Kylo what time he expected him in their rooms, and Kylo had made sure to be five minutes early. When he got there, a black box on the wide bed greeted him. There was a small card above it, and he opened it to read:

_My pet,_

_I will be home in an hour. Wash yourself from head to toe. Clean your filthy hole, too. When you are done, open this box and wear this outfit for me. I expect to be greeted correctly when I arrive._

_Emperor Dameron_

Kylo made a noise of discontent. **When you are done**? He had to wait until he’d gotten clean to see what Poe wanted him to wear? His fingers reached out to touch the thick, black card of the box… wondering if he could risk a peek.

He wasn’t sure if Poe had cameras installed or not. They’d never discussed them. It was entirely possible there were holo-recordings of everything they’d ever… _shit_. That sent a stab of need through his groin, and he pressed his thighs together in an attempt to curb it. The thought of Poe watching their sessions, in his office, alone… maybe he’d touch himself? Of maybe he’d just rile himself up, ready to come back and work out his energy on Kylo? Fingernails scraped the cardboard, and he stormed into the bathroom.

He’d gotten adept at undressing. Now it was a case of _as fast as possible_ , but also he knew how to make a show of it. Were there cameras, here? Was Poe watching to make sure he obeyed? Kylo decided to act as if there were. He started with his cowl, unfastening it at the throat, and then throwing it back and to the floor. He lifted his head so proudly, and his thumbs found the catches in his mask. Pressed, and the _snaphiss_ release that always made him _horny_ , now. If he was allowed to show his face, it was generally a good sign that Poe wanted to look him in the eyes as they did whatever they did. Although Poe would sometimes use him wearing nothing _but_ the mask. Kylo liked that, too.

He tossed his hair gently, when the mask slipped open enough to allow it. Felt the graze of it against his cheek, and dropped the mask to the floor, too. Here he was not just _Kylo, Master of the Knights_. Here he was the other Kylos, too. The Kylo who loved to lick his Master’s boots. The Kylo who would act as a warm blanket for a cold lover. The Kylo who would massage thumbs into Poe’s calves when they watched a holo together. He was the Kylo who was afraid, at times. Afraid and confused. The Kylo who was hopeful and curious. The Kylo who wanted praise and punishment both, who craved a hand to slap across his cheek, and a hand to stroke it better. He was Poe’s Kylo, here. 

He ran a thumb over his own cheekbone, down the side of his face, and then across his lips. He tried to imagine it was Poe’s gloved hand instead, and he felt his knees give at the idea. Leather digits to suckle hard on, to look up - longingly - and try to convince him what a good pet he really was. Down and over his throat, and… he pressed a little, but there was still clothing in the way, and he wasn’t supposed to touch himself _too_ much. Poe had rules. Kylo normally tried to obey them as intently as he could, but sometimes they chafed more than others. 

Next went off the belt, and the outer layer of robes fell after a shimmy of hips. He slipped the suspender belts from his shoulders, and they fell down his legs. He pulled the bottom of his shirt, arms crossed, and whipped it off and tossed it to one side. His chest was bare, and he arched his back to good effect. If Poe _was_ watching, he’d get a reminder of how good his pet could be. How far back he would bend when a hand grabbed his hair. How broad his shoulders were, perfect for flogging. How strong his chest, how much pain he could take. Kylo reached up for effect, and then grabbed hold of his pants belt.

Unclick. Slip, slide, tug. He made a show of it, drawing out from the loops, and tossed it to one side. Unfastened the zips and buttons, and then - with a sway of his ass - he shoved things down and to his ankles. Dropped to a crouch (more showing off, this time of his buttocks) and pulled boots and socks and finally the rest of his pants and underthings.

He wasn’t wearing any internal or external toys today: it hadn’t been required. So the only thing he still wore were his gloves. He left the clothes where they lay (Poe wouldn’t mind, or would at least punish him in a fun way) and then put his middle finger of one hand into his mouth. Bit down with his teeth, and slid the finger out until he was biting down on empty fabric, holding it still as his hand unsheathed. He spat the glove away, and repeated it with his left hand.

And then he was bare. Naked as the day he was born, if significantly more fun, now. He turned the ‘fresher unit on, and leapt into it before the water got warm enough. Freezing cold on his hot skin, and he had to bite his lip at the sting of it. Heat rumbled higher through the pipes, and then he was gritting his teeth against the hot-red streaks the rivulets left behind. It **burned** , it burned so _nicely_ , and he tilted his face into the spray and let it wash him clean of the day.

His cock - of course - begged for attention. Poe gave him enough orgasms that he didn’t come in his sleep so often, any more, but it wasn’t a guarantee at the end of the night. He wasn’t supposed to play with it without permission, so he carefully washed it with minimal contact. Stroked the simple soap over it, and then let it bounce happily about in front of him, in expectation (hopeful) of things to come.

He _had_ been told to clean himself internally, though. So now he’d done lathering other parts of him, and slicking his hair back… he put one hand against the tiled wall, braced his legs shoulder-width apart, and slipped a finger between his cheeks. The middle one, stroking through the slick space. He hadn’t touched himself sexually without Poe being present in the longest time, and it felt almost a _cheat_ to do it now. But he kept pretending - imagining, hoping? - the holorecorders were on him, and he had to put on a good show. He arched his back still further, and slipped his finger into - into - 

… _oh hot damn yes yes yes…_

He swirled it around in his hole, bending it to clean himself out as much as possible. He hadn’t been fucked yet this week, so there was no chance of anything up there other than things Poe _didn’t want_ , so he tried his damndest to get himself nice and clean for him. His head rested on his forearm, and his chest heaving, and he _hoped_ this meant he’d get stuffed full. He missed it when Poe didn’t come in one of his holes. He liked those times most of all. He kept going until the timer he’d set blipped, letting him know he only had fifteen minutes before Poe was due to arrive. 

The water rinsed his fingers, was turned off, and a towel employed to rapid use. He had to pat his cock and balls dry, and tried not to enjoy it too much, in case Poe thought he was interfering with himself sexually. He wandered out, back to the bedroom, and then moved to the box. The lid was sleek, satiny black, and his fingerprints left smudgy marks in their wake. Kylo lifted the lid carefully, feeling the resistance as the layers clung together. He tossed the top to one side, and then looked at…

…

It was… it was an outfit, of some form. Not particularly good at concealing or retaining heat, and… mostly it seemed to be designed to allow maximum access, with minimum effort. There was a beautiful black collar, which was studded above an O-ring with the mark of the First Order. It buckled at the back, and he lifted that out, first. It felt like the sort of thing he shouldn’t put on himself, so he placed that to one side. Next there was leather chest-harness, that looked more like it. He picked it up, and slid his arms between the shoulder-lines. It crossed over front and back like an X, and then again under his armpits and around his waist. It took some cinching into place, and then he was sure it would take quite a bit of abuse. The leather straps accentuated his curveless figure, and left his nipples bare and proud for any harassment.

Then went on a simple leather belt, which had holster-straps around the upper thigh. It was bare at the back, with the slightest modesty patch of fabric in front. Kylo struggled to get it to look good over his already-erect cock, worried that Poe might bind him in harder chastity if he made this look untidy. With some effort, it looked presentable. Then the rest were… ah yes. Cuffs for wrists, and for ankles. These again had those studs and rings for ropes and chains, and he fastened them into place. There were arm bracers, which seemed to be more decorative than functional, and he snapped those on. His feet remained bare, but he didn’t mind. (And it meant more access again.)

The timer alert went off again, and Kylo scooped the box off to one side. He picked the collar up and placed it gently in his mouth, and then sank to kneel before the foot of the bed. He dropped his hands to his knees - palms up - and lowered his head in anticipation. He hoped he was making a good show of himself, for when Poe appeared.

He hoped… he hoped this meant he’d been good enough to finally, _truly_ earn his collar. It would fit under his outfit. That was likely the point. Poe might let him wear it at _all_ times, and then he’d know - he’d be **reminded** \- that he was _owned_.

The Emperor entered right on time, and Kylo’s world stopped moving. Or, to be more precise, he got so close to the centre of it (Poe), that it felt like he wasn’t moving, because everything in the universe revolved around his beloved. His mouth was dry, and his body tingling under the eyes he now knew _were_ on him, not just some imagined, distant voyeur. He wanted to know, wanted to know if he was acceptable, if he looked ridiculous like this, or if it made Poe’s blood run hot. He wanted to reach out with the Force, but Poe had told him not to, not without permission.

A hand under his mouth, and he opened it, let the collar fall into Poe’s fist. He had to tilt his head to allow it to be fastened into place, and - oh _yes_. It wasn’t too tight, and it wasn’t too loose. He could feel it, when he breathed in and out. Could feel it against his skin, like a constant promise, a constant hand. He was Poe’s, completely. Naked, or dressed. Here, or elsewhere. His heart had belonged to the other man for many decades, but this - now - was the first time they could be so _free_ about it, and it still hit him like a saber through the gut. All those years of secret kisses and brushes of fingers and rushed, rapid couplings. Of robes pushed to one side in a bathroom stall as Poe’s hand was around his mouth to stop him screaming as he fucked him blind. Going under his General’s desk to suck him off, even as he made comm calls to his subordinates. Earlier… a Jedi in love, terrified at the prospect of losing the one thing that made _sense_ … hands in one another’s hair, and a terrible promise that _whatever it took_ they’d be together…

And now, now when there was no one above them to tell them what to do… when Poe was finally free to **really** be the Master he needed, the only Master he needed… Kylo wanted to cry out in bliss. He smiled, tears pricking his eyes, and looked longingly up.

“You look so stunning, my pet, my Kylo,” Poe told him, his own voice heavy with emotion.  


Kylo _blossomed_ under the combined compliment and use of both of his names. “Thank you, Master.”

“Did you do everything I asked?”  


He blushed, then nodded. “I wanted to look inside the box first, but you told me not to, so I didn’t.” Honesty was the best policy. Even if he hadn’t _done_ anything wrong, he’d thought it.

“There’s nothing wrong with being tempted if you resist,” Poe told him, and then stroked a hand through his still-damp hair. “You were very good for me.”  


Kylo was sure he was going to explode, and the choked little noise of bliss rocked through him from head to toe. “Thank you, Master.”

“Because you’ve been so good, I’m going to let you come, tonight. I’m even going to let you come on my cock.” His fingers moved to curve around the back of Kylo’s head, pressing in firmly.  


Oh yes. Kylo mrred in happiness, and gazed heatedly up. “Thank you, Master. Whatever you want. Whatever you want of me.”

“I want you to show me how much that ass of yours can take. You’re going to get the biggest toy from the box, and you’re going to hold still while I use it on you. While I make your greedy little hole spread for me. And then I’m going to make you hold it down, out of the way, still inside you when I take you. And then you’re going to keep the toy between your legs all night, with my load inside of you. Do you understand?”  


The biggest… he’d only done it once, and it had sort of hurt, but in a good way. But for Poe to be in at the same time? Maker, have mercy. He wasn’t going to be able to walk at _all_ tomorrow. “Yes, Sir.”

“Now go fetch.”  


Kylo ducked from the bed, and went to the toy cupboard. Poe had steadily been improving their paraphernalia since his rise to Emperorhood, and now they had more floggers, crops, whips, plugs, cages, ropes, chains and blindfolds than Kylo could count. He pulled out the box that held the plugs, dildos and vibrators, and got the one that was shaped like… well. It wasn’t shaped like Poe. It was tapered, but not entirely like a plug. There were waves to it, and a flare at the base, so it would stay in like Poe wanted it to. A chunky handle, and there was a hidden bullet vibrator inside. Last time Kylo hadn’t managed it, but this time he was going to do his best. He got the extra-sticky lube, and walked back over to the bed with them, dropping to one knee.

“Bend over,” Poe told him, taking the items from him.   


Kylo did, at once. He bent over the bed as instructed, and spread his legs, and used a hand on each ass-cheek to spread that area wider, too. There was a click-slick-sploosh sound, and then the pointed tip was pressing into him. It started off simply enough, and he remembered liking it the first time, but then… then it got wider. Poe wasn’t being as fast as Kylo had been with himself, but the panic still rose up in a wave, a clenching fear in his core that meant his legs tensed up, his toes scrunching through the carpet below his feet.

“Shhh,” his Emperor soothed, a hand rubbing circles in the small of his back. “Shhh. You can take it. I know you can take it, pet.”  


“S-s-sorry,” he hiccuped, and tried to will his body to relax. It wasn’t working so well, even with the sensation of being penetrated. He loved to be filled and breached, so why was he… why was he freaking out about it? He pushed his head into the bed, and swallowed against the collar to help ground him some more.  


“Good boy.” 

The vibrator prodded gently, in and out, and Kylo tried to imagine it was Poe’s cock instead. He let his eyes slide shut, and then pulled his cheeks wider again, and pushed his ass up higher. It went deeper in, and deeper, and Kylo found the thread of pleasure in the sensations and honed in on it. He was very aware of every curl and ripple in the thick latex to ease his hole ready. He panted, and then it _worked_ and Poe was fucking him properly with it. Not all the way in, but enough, and then there was a graze against that place inside that made him moan low and happy, and rock against it.   


“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”  


“You’re doing so well,” Poe told him, and then there was a flip switched on the toy.  


All of a sudden the low, pulsing vibrations kicked in, and Kylo moaned louder. He could feel every part of it, and the sensation travelled up his spine and through to his stomach. His cock was already full and ready, pressed into the sheets, and he grabbed hold of the mattress to keep himself still. Poe didn’t often let him have so much stimulation all at once, and his head was swimming in an attempt to process it. He turned his head to glance up at him, with a hopeful expression.

“Please, Master?”  


“You think you’re ready?”   


“Yes. Yes, Master. Yes.”  


Poe reached for his hand, and Kylo gave it to him. He moved his fingers around the outer section of the toy, and held it up. Poe helped him work it deeper, then pulled the widest part back out… and then there was a firm, sure pressure. Poe’s cock pressed against the toy, and Kylo momentarily wondered  if he’d stepped too far, too fast. He held the toy, but then Poe was fucking him slowly, and he wanted to make it good for him, too. So - because he had no sense of decorum - he pushed the vibrator in as far as it would go and _screamed_.

Screamed, because he couldn’t work out one sensation from the next. It was a glorious mess of thrusting, of being stuffed so tight his insides clenched, of things shaking and things pressing and he felt his hand taken from the toy, and twisted up and between his shoulderblades.

“You didn’t ask permission, pet,” Poe said, his voice dangerous and sharp.  


“I’m sorry, Master. I just wanted to make it good for you.” He realised he hadn’t asked, had been so very badly behaved, and he had done it through lack of forethought, not through malice. He slammed his head into the bed, and the pressure on his wrist got ever higher.  


“Don’t do it again, or I won’t let you come,” Poe insisted.  


“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”  


But he could hear how it _was_ good for Poe, because Poe’s level voice was wavering, too. Their fingers laced as his Emperor rode him hard, and then there was a sudden gushing feeling that meant Poe was climaxing, after all. He felt his insides coated, and Kylo sobbed in relief. Poe kept inside of him for a moment, then pulled out and just left that toy thrumming inside his ass. He hadn’t come, like he’d been promised he could, and he worried that meant he wouldn’t be allowed to. Meant he’d ruined everything.

Then a hand slammed against the outside of the vibrator, pressing it into his prostate again, and Kylo _screamed_ again, his climax hitting him without any way to keep it from happening. He thrashed and sobbed and humped uselessly at the bed, his come making a mess of the sheets and the slender drape of cloth that hung from his belt. He dropped bonelessly down - legs still twitching from the orgasm - and felt a hand moving to wipe the mess up with that loincloth.

Kylo was fucked out of his head, and the toy was still in, but the pulsing turned down to its lowest setting. He keened in pleasure, and then Poe was on the bed. Sitting up at the headboard, his cock tucked back away, like he hadn’t fucked his pet blind. Kylo shuddered, and looked up.

Poe patted the side of the bed, and Kylo awkwardly crawled up to sit beside him. His lover and Master slipped fingers into his hair, and cradled his head on Poe’s own shoulder. Kylo let his arms sneak around his Master, and he mumbled almost wordless thanks.

“I like that outfit,” Emperor Dameron declared. “I think I’ll make you wear it more often.”  


If he got fucked out of his head, and left with Poe’s load up his ass and a toy to tease him until the power cells ran out… Kylo would go around wearing slices of toast, if it came to it.

He tried not to think _that_ too loudly, in case Poe got any ideas…


End file.
